


almost / always

by mochihui



Category: QCYN2, Youth With You, 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV), 青春有你2
Genre: (because i wanted to get all my favs into one fic), Angst, Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, balcony line!, lapslock, various trainee cameos, yani if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 09:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24847903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochihui/pseuds/mochihui
Summary: xu jiaqi, lingzi realizes, is simplycaptivating.
Relationships: Liu Lingzi/Xu Jiaqi
Comments: 13
Kudos: 58





	almost / always

**Author's Note:**

> alternatively titled: how everything could have happened

lingzi discovers the balcony by complete accident.

balcony isn't the right word for it, really. it's more of a rooftop garden, complete with flowerbeds surrounded by winding cement pathways that criss-cross over the entire space. beyond the glass paneled railing, lingzi catches a glimpse of the rollercoasters rising from the changlong amusement park, glinting under the full moon, silent and devoid of people at such a late hour.

lingzi settles down onto the concrete, back pressed into the cold glass behind her. she takes a deep breath, filling her lungs with the crisp night air and closing her eyes. 

her “bad guy” groupmates had left a couple hours ago, heading back to the dorms to catch a few precious hours of sleep before another long day of practice. _they deserve it_ , lingzi thinks to herself, ears still ringing with the shouted counts of their daily core exercise routine. the ache in her muscles sharpens at the recollection. _they've worked hard._

zheng yuxin had been the last one to leave, sometime around midnight. she and lingzi had been lying on the floor together after what felt like their millionth run through, soaked in sweat and legs burning in protest. yuxin had pushed herself to her feet once her breathing had evened out, grabbing her water bottle and discarded purple jacket before returning to lingzi’s side and holding out a hand. 

“let's go.”

lingzi had shaken her head. “you can go back without me, i’m going to stay for a little longer.”

yuxin had frowned ever so slightly, but she moved towards the door anyway, casting one last worried glance at lingzi before turning the handle. 

“goodnight, jie. don't stay too long.”

lingzi opens her eyes, lips quirking upwards into a bitter sort of smile at the thought. the last two hours were a blur of sore muscles, confusion, and the heavy bass of their song blasting in the empty studio. no matter how hard she tried, she was still missing the same steps, making the same mistakes.

mistakes she really can't afford to make.

lingzi takes another deep breath, the fresh air a welcome change after spending so long holed up in a stuffy practice room. she had left the studio in a frustrated daze, wandering through the endless halls of the changlong building in an attempt to clear her mind. somehow, after taking a couple wrong turns and pushing through a door or two, she had ended up on the balcony, staring up at the moon. the breeze rippling over the rooftop was invigorating, melting her tensions into something softer, something less abrasive. 

lingzi is glad she stumbled upon this place. she likes it, likes how distant it feels from the realities of the competition, likes the obvious lack of cameras and the privacy it holds. it feels safe, much safer than the rest of the building.

she tilts her head back, gaze fixed on the inky black sky, letting thoughts float through her brain. she thinks of her teammates, of their “perseverance is more terrible than hard work” slogan, the phrase that holds them together. she thinks of their incredible work ethic and the passion burning behind their eyes each time they dance. yuxin in particular sticks in lingzi’s mind, with her machine-like practice routines and her seemingly endless energy reserve. lingzi doesn't know whether to be scared of her or for her, for the hardships she’ll have to face down the road to stardom that will probably dim the stars in her eyes. 

the sound of shuffling nearby catches lingzi’s attention, pulling her out of her thoughts and back to reality. she glances around, eyes falling on the figure approaching out of the darkness, wrapped in her own purple jacket.

ge xinyi pauses when she sees lingzi, who gives her a small smile. xinyi sits down across from lingzi, perched on the edge of a flowerbed, hands fidgeting in her lap.

“what brings you out here so late?” lingzi asks. the other girl looks down, not meeting her eyes.

“needed a break from practice,” she mumbles. there's tension stretched across her shoulders, evident in the frown pulling at her lips.

lingzi hums in acknowledgement. she doesn't know xinyi all that well, save for a couple quick conversations in the halls of the dorms and during meals in the cafeteria. but there's something about the other that feels so genuine, so honest, that just makes lingzi want to trust her, even under such tense circumstances.

they sit in silence for a few more moments, accompanied by only the wind whistling overhead, before xinyi speaks again.

“it's just so _hard_ ,” she sighs, finally looking up at lingzi. “i keep making mistakes and dragging down the team and they're all such good dancers. i look so awful next to all of them. might as well just be dead weight.”

lingzi remembers the rumors she had heard about the play team, of an qi drilling her teammates to perfection in every aspect, including eating. xinyi was by no means a weak dancer, and she had proven her worth in the initial evaluations. next to people like kong xueer and jin zihan, it would be hard not to feel inferior, and lingzi’s sure that the other girl is pulling more weight than she realizes. still, her words tug at something in lingzi, urging her to provide comfort.

“you're doing everything you can,” lingzi murmurs, scooting closer to xinyi. “you're a strong dancer. people will see you on stage.”

xinyi nods, sniffles, then suddenly bursts into tears. lingzi instinctively moves to her side, wrapping the other girl in a tight hug. xinyi sobs into the fabric of lingzi’s jacket while lingzi holds her, one hand running up and down her back in a soothing motion.

“you can do it.” she whispers, and xinyi only cries harder. “you’re more than good enough, xinyi.”

it takes a while for xinyi to calm down, for her sobs to die down. eventually, she leans away, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. 

“sorry for just,” she makes a vague gesture with her hands, “unloading. on you.”

“it's not a problem.” lingzi says, and she means it. 

“it probably doesn't matter anyway.” xinyi laughs wetly. “we’ll all just get crushed by the eve team in the end. xu jiaqi will dance for two seconds and the rest of us will be done for.”

lingzi laughs along with her. they sit in companionable silence for a few more moments, minds full of the oncoming competition, before xinyi rises. 

“thanks, lingzi,” she says, and lingzi is once again reminded of her genuinity. 

“no problem,” she replies. “if you ever need me, you know where to find me.” she waves a hand around the rooftop.

“will do.” xinyi smiles, tension gone from her features, then turns and heads back towards the building. lingzi watches her go, watches until her back is swallowed up by the darkness.

she thinks she just made a friend.

—

xinyi’s words stick with lingzi all the way up to their first public performance: _we’ll all just get crushed by the eve team in the end._ if she's honest with herself, lingzi is more than intimidated by the eve team, especially by one member in particular.

xu jiaqi, lingzi realizes, is simply _captivating_.

there's a magnetism to her aura, something that screams _look at me look at me look at me_ wherever she goes. she draws eyes with every step, every smile, every nod. in a building full of 109 trainees clutching onto dreams too big for their bodies, jiaqi’s charm becomes an instant focal point. whispers erupt in her wake, half-awed and half-envious, accompanied by lingering gazes and a sense of longing: to be her, or be near her, or both.

lingzi had done her research before the show, looking up her competitors name by name, gauging what she was up against. as soon as she had tapped in xu jiaqi’s name and hit the “search” button, she knew she was in for a tough time. jiaqi was on a whole different level of fame, recognized not only in china, but internationally. it wasn't hard to see why. even in still pictures, there was something about her that drew lingzi in, caught up in the suggestive gaze she threw at the cameras. _short haired goddess_ , the internet called her. lingzi couldn’t help but agree.

as it turns out, jiaqi’s effect is only magnified in person. the charisma rolls off of her in waves, the little smirk on her face reeling her audience in for every single moment she stands on the initial evaluation stage. her dancing is truly something special, sharp and defined but somehow still fluid and graceful. she sets the standard, raises the bar, and lingzi really doesn't know whether anyone will be able to rise to meet it.

lingzi has only really seen jiaqi a handful of times since the show began, and always from a distance. offstage, jiaqi still manages to maintain her perfect poise. lingzi had watched from the crowd as she stood in front of the rest of the trainees, clad in her glasses and powder pink sweater, cautiously picking out her teammates and offering a hug even when keni voiced objection. her hair is always clipped away from her face neatly with a colorful barrette, not a strand out of place. every once in a while, lingzi catches a glimpse of her in the crowded cafeteria, covering her laughs with an elegant hand.

by the end of the second week of filming, lingzi thinks she understands jiaqi’s magnetism. her charm is caught in limbo, somewhere between her confidence and strength on stage and her tentativeness off of it. it stems from both the practiced grin she delivered from under the brim of her hat and the surprise on her face when kun picked her name out of that huge cardboard box. jiaqi has struck a precarious balance between untouchable idol and sweet, down-to-earth girl, drawing in everyone around her through the perfectly engineered magic of it all.

the position evaluations only further prove lingzi’s theory. from the opening line, jiaqi grabs the spotlight, demanding complete attention. lingzi can’t look away, eyes glued to the screen all the way until they hit their ending pose. the camera zooms in, focusing on the curve of jiaqi’s lips, the glitter beneath her eyes. something flutters in lingzi’s stomach at the sight. 

idly, she wonders if jiaqi knows just how captivating she is.

—

the rooftop quickly becomes lingzi’s favorite spot in all of changlong. she frequents it often, opting to spend her few practice breaks under the open sky, wind against her skin. somehow, the fresh air seems to replenish her strength each time she breathes it in, especially after full days of practicing, replacing her with exhaustion with newfound energy to fuel her for a few more hours. 

lingzi isn't the only one who discovers the magic of the rooftop. there's a constantly changing cast of trainees moving through the pathways, loitering by the glass railing, or seated on the flowerbeds, easily becoming makeshift benches. some of them come to practice, looking for a change of scenery, using the floor to ceiling windows of the building as mirrors. some of them come to cry, to let it all out at a safe distance from the intrusive camera crews within the studios. lingzi has shed her own fair share of tears out here, overwhelmed by both the pressure of being in A class and the difficulty of the theme song task.

her stellar performance in bad guy was both a blessing and a curse. her spirits were initially raised by her placement, excited at the prospect of finally being seen, finally catching the attention of the youth producers. it had ignited something within her, a competitive streak that hadn't existed before. 

coming into the show, lingzi’s original plan was to simply do what she could, attempt to survive a round or two of eliminations, and present the best side of herself in the hopes of getting her name out there and garnering a few more fans. but now, with the sweetness of winning the most votes within her group combined with the bitter tinge of second place fresh on her tongue, she wants more. she wants to win, wants to debut.

still, her new pink sweater weighs down on her shoulders, reminding her of the challenge she’s facing. it's not enough to just get into A class. lingzi needs to prove that she's here to stay.

spending time on the rooftop becomes a form of catharsis for lingzi, alleviating the pressure when it becomes too much. besides the tranquil atmosphere, it also provides another comfort: friendship. xinyi accompanies lingzi on nearly all of her trips to the balcony, and becomes a stabilizing presence in the strained practice rooms. she’s easy to open up to, holding lingzi when her emotions get the best of her and laughing with her during their lighter conversations. with xinyi comes lin fan, bright and enthusiastic, an endless well of optimism even when lingzi feels like collapsing under the constant scrutiny of the cameras. 

(one night, lingzi catches xinyi and lin fan staring at each other under the light of the waning moon, gazes far more intimate than she's ever seen them. it probably means something, but lingzi’s too tired to really think it through.)

lingzi meets jin zihan one early morning, when she and xinyi push their way onto the rooftop for a quick breather before their first class of the day. zihan is dancing by the windows, eyes narrowed as she watches her reflection in the glass.

xinyi calls out to her, and she turns, face softening as she sees xinyi’s broad smile. they were teammates, lingzi remembers, watching as xinyi envelops zihan in a hug before tugging her over to lingzi.

over the next hour, lingzi chats with the other two girls about everything and nothing, adjusting to zihan’s presence. there's something sweet about the other girl, with her wide eyes and sleepy smiles. still, lingzi remembers the focus with which she had been attacking the theme song dance on the rooftop, and makes a mental note to never underestimate her as a competitor.

the four of them become inseparable, falling into a routine of meeting on the rooftop to watch the sunset before dinner. lingzi starts bringing her film camera, snapping photos of the four of them huddled together by the railing and any other trainees who happen to be passing by. once, they doodle characters for each other on the corners of their lyric sheets, giggling at their collective lack of drawing skills. lingzi’s heart hasn't felt this warm since she got here.

she keeps an eye on the other trainees who visit the rooftop, making a mental list. it goes on and on, new additions popping up every other day: wang xinyu with her guitar, shuxin and xiaotang (the inseparable duo), zhang yu, nai wan, fu ruqiao. the names go on and on, until lingzi is pretty sure almost every girl has been on the balcony at least once. still, there's one person that has yet to appear, a person who floats through lingzi’s mind at least once a day.

but there's no time for distractions, not when the stakes are so high. whenever lingzi’s thoughts begin to wander, she shakes them off, moving back to the opening pose of the theme song and looping the music on her mp3 player. she's going to need a near-perfect one take if she wants to keep her pink sweater.

—

she doesn't make it. there's a lump in her throat as lingzi changes into her new blue uniform, discarding the pink one in a laundry basket by her feet.

 _don't cry_ , she thinks to herself, blinking a couple times to push the wetness in her eyes away. _focus. there will be time for tears later_.

filming for the music video turns out to be more grueling than lingzi had anticipated. “one more take!” the production team calls out, over and over until she's sweating through her blouse and practically wheezing from the constant dancing and singing. when they finally announce the last cut, lingzi wants to collapse in relief. instead, she forces herself off stage with the rest of the girls, finding an empty dressing room and peeling off her neatly ironed shirt and skirt in favor of more comfortable clothes. handing the uniform to one of the stylists, she heads towards the exit.

she makes it halfway to the door before she spots something out of the corner of her eye. a figure sits huddled in a corner of the soundstage, head bowed and knees tucked tightly to their chest. lingzi stares for a couple seconds before approaching cautiously.

the person looks up as lingzi draws nearer. it's jiaqi, bare-faced, her hair falling out of the perfect waves she had worn for the filming. she gives lingzi a tiny smile, but it's strained around the edges. there's a tug in lingzi’s heart at the sight.

“hey.” lingzi pauses a few feet away from jiaqi. 

“hi.” jiaqi’s voice is quiet, unbearably so. she looks so small, nothing like the powerful performer lingzi is so used to seeing on stage. 

“wanna come on a walk with me?” lingzi blurts out, spurred on by her growing concern. she extends a hand towards jiaqi, who looks at it with hesitation before reaching up to take it. her skin is soft against lingzi’s, warmth radiating from her palm as she pushes herself off the ground with her free hand.

they leave the set together, lingzi directing her footsteps towards the main building on the other side of the complex. she can see jiaqi in her peripherals, following her in silence. from this close, jiaqi looks a lot less flawless and a lot more human. lingzi takes in the purple bags under her eyes, the imperfections in her skin, and feels her brow furrow into a frown.

jiaqi looks exhausted.

“where are we going?” jiaqi finally asks when they’re waiting for the elevator on the ground floor. 

“you'll see.” lingzi replies, fingers playing with the hem of her t-shirt. the elevator dings, doors sliding open, and they enter.

as they rise through the building, lingzi wracks her brain for an explanation to jiaqi’s strange behavior. from what she could tell, she had been fine throughout the filming, dancing as neat and precise as always. although they had been standing on the same stage, jiaqi’s presence had been much stronger than anybody else’s, rivaling those of the girls standing above her.

lingzi thinks back to the days leading up to the filming, the final practice sessions before their collective performance. as newfound classmates, they had spoken a couple times, usually with keni bridging the gap between them. when she was comfortable, jiaqi was full of witty remarks and loud laughter, always making playful comments to lighten the mood. it was a change from lingzi’s original assumption of constant composure, but she liked this less polished side of jiaqi. 

aside from their conversations, jiaqi had slipped into the role of a teacher easily, leading several “classes” on the yes ok! dance throughout each day. lingzi had watched one once, seated in the corner of the room and nursing her water bottle as jiaqi, sleeves of her blue sweater rolled up to her elbows, had corralled a group of trainees from various classes into a vaguely organized clump, before beginning to slowly walk them through the first verse. 

_blue sweater. standing on the same stage_. suddenly, lingzi understands what’s going on.

they arrive at the twenty-first floor, stepping off the elevator and into the deserted lounge space between the several practice rooms. lingzi leads the way to the familiar glass doors and onto the rooftop, navigating over to her usual spot beside the glass paneling.

she sits down, jiaqi following suit, facing her with her legs crossed. 

“i didn't realize there was a balcony here,” she says, looking around. 

“i found it a while ago. it’s a good place to just breathe for a while, you know?” lingzi explains, jiaqi nodding in agreement. “no cameras either,” she adds, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly. 

jiaqi’s breath hitches ever so slightly. she takes one more sweeping glance around the space before dropping her head to stare at her fidgeting hands. 

“what's up?” lingzi asks softly, voice barely above a whisper. there's a pause before jiaqi answers.

“i just… wanted to do better.” she doesn't raise her head, refusing to look lingzi in the eye. “wanted to stand in the center. you know.”

lingzi makes a noise of acknowledgement. “for what it's worth, anyone who has seen you dance knows you deserved an A.”

jiaqi laughs, a little more sour than her usual bright giggles. “thanks.”

lingzi can tell she doesn't believe it. “seriously,” she continues, “there's a reason you’ve already debuted.”

she knows she's pushing it, knows it by the way jiaqi’s shoulders rise ever so slightly at the mention of her past. but lingzi wants to push, wants to break the wall that jiaqi has carefully constructed around herself, just to see what really lies underneath. 

“i'm just another trainee.” jiaqi finally says. “the whole reason i’m here is for a new start. to prove myself to a new audience.”

“and you will,” lingzi answers, keeping her tone calm. _you already have_ , she wants to say, _nobody can keep their eyes off of you_. instead, she settles on something else: “this is only the beginning.”

jiaqi lets out a sigh. “true.” she acknowledges. after a few moments, she adds, “i deserved it anyway. i had a sore throat on the day of the one take. couldn't sing properly.”

indignation bubbles up through lingzi at the realization. so it was a sore throat that had kept jiaqi from A class. that was it.

she really should have been on that center stage.

“what was it like?” lingzi asks on impulse. jiaqi looks up at her, confusion etched across her face. “back in shanghai, i mean.” she clarifies. she must sound genuinely curious, because jiaqi chuckles, much lighter than before.

“similar and different from how it is here.” jiaqi says. lingzi listens intently as jiaqi launches into an account of her last eight years: preparing for frequent public performances, living alongside so many other girls, traveling abroad to film mvs or for international activities, the yearly pressure of the general elections. in return, lingzi shares her own stories, of both her oaca training and her life before she decided to chase this dream.

they talk for hours, although it only feels like a few minutes. jiaqi’s smile widens as their conversation goes on, her entire demeanor brightening, and lingzi finds herself grinning back. she learns that jiaqi used to dance ballet, that she had left home at an impossibly young age to pursue her dreams of standing on stage, that she has a cat named qmi and that she had once spent a whole day with dai meng looking for a makeup bag she had lost while traveling. lingzi opens herself up too, describing her passion for photography and film, her self-produced videos that she posts on her weibo, her own background as a dancer, and her irrational obsession with dinosaurs.

sometime during jiaqi’s animated retelling of one particularly memorable performance, lingzi recalls her initial impression of jiaqi’s poise and perfection. she remembers her theory of how jiaqi’s captivating energy came from the combination of her onstage and offstage personas. listening to her chatter, words tumbling quickly from her mouth, completely unfiltered, makes lingzi re-evaluate this perception, reconsider her conclusions. 

jiaqi’s magnetism is just as strong without her carefully curated image. even in her slightly disheveled, post-filming state, she’s still as eye-catching as ever, still holds all of lingzi’s attention without the intrigue of her constant composure. there's nothing manufactured to it after all. it's her natural charm that draws people in: her sweet voice, her shameless laughter, the slight pout of her lips. 

when they finally realize the time, it's already five in the morning. “we should get going.” lingzi suggests, reluctant to break the conversation. jiaqi startles at the thought, looking up to take in the brightening sky.

“good thing we have today off, huh.” she says, getting up and dusting herself off. lingzi nods in agreement, and they begin the trek back to the interior of the building.

before she opens the door, jiaqi turns to lingzi, a soft smile on her face. wordlessly, she opens her arms, and lingzi steps forward into her embrace.

jiaqi’s slim frame feels delicate and fragile in lingzi’s hold. her face rests in the crook of lingzi’s neck, and lingzi breathes in the scent of hairspray that’s left in her hair. jiaqi pulls away after a few seconds, still smiling.

the memory of jiaqi pressed into lingzi’s body lingers in her mind for the next week. 

—

whoever organized the iqiyi filming schedule must be absolutely insane. not even two hours after the first round of eliminations, the remaining 60 trainees are ushered into an auditorium to select songs for their next performance. they file into the rows, tear tracks on their cheeks covered by a fresh layer of makeup, and do their best to listen to kun’s new instructions. 

lingzi is still reeling from the ranking announcement. she brushes her fingers over the 25 printed on her new name tag, eyes still a little puffy from the tears she had shed while saying goodbye to three of her oaca companymates. she hadn't cried nearly as hard as keni, who had practically collapsed into siyang’s arms as soon as they were allowed to move. 

lingzi had joined them in a huge group hug, hands clutching at the fabric of her friends’ uniforms, not wanting to let go. somewhere in the middle of it all, aurora had whispered in her ear: “stay strong, baobei. do it for us.”

she only half listens as kun plays their song choices, circling the one that she remembers the most vividly on her card. the rest of the segment flies by in a blur, until it's her turn to stand and see what her options are.

dai meng. yuxin. chengxuan. and jiaqi.

by the time she reaches the elevators, lingzi has made up her mind. it was easy, really: r and b all night had already been her first choice song, sexy and sweet and all things she knows she can pull off. her feet carry her towards the requisite practice room without hesitation, pushing through the door with an empty bottle of that god awful yogurt drink clutched in her hand.

jiaqi and chengxuan both turn towards the door with hopeful smiles as she enters, hands still in the air. lingzi skips over to stand in between them, listening to the shouts of impromptu slogans in an attempt to win her over.

“i’ve actually already decided,” she says to the camera once the room has quieted down. she pauses for a moment, adding a bit of dramatic effect, before whirling around to the right. 

jiaqi’s arms are raised above her head, eyes wide and lips pressed together as she waits for lingzi’s decision. she freezes when lingzi catches her eye, and lingzi can’t help but grin at the sight. 

“kiki!” she shouts, rushing over to her new team captain amidst chuhan and wang qing’s cheering. jiaqi pulls her into a quick side hug, not letting go even after lingzi straightens up, dragging lingzi closer to her by the waist. lingzi can feel the warmth of jiaqi’s body next to hers as they stand side by side and wait for the team selection to finish.

it was always going to be her. 

—

r and b all night meets most of lingzi’s expectations. the dance isn't too difficult, and her vocal parts are all more than adequate. overall, she's fairly confident in herself for this round of performances.

the other girls aren't as lucky. xinyi has been struggling with her rap, writing and rewriting lyrics over and over again to try and find the best flow. there's a pang in lingzi’s chest when she walks in on the other girl asleep in the lounge one morning, still clutching her notebook and pen. she wishes they weren't on opposing teams, wishes that they could overcome this new obstacle together, but she doesn't have much choice. so she holds xinyi’s hand during their increasingly sparse rooftop visits, sits with her at mealtimes, and hopes for the best.

keni has been struggling too, with the complex choreography of ambush weighing her down. she spends most nights at the practice rooms, leaving lingzi by herself in their dorm. lingzi knows she’s been going through a rough patch, upset over both the loss of her companymates and the difficulty of her stage. but lingzi has also noticed that there’s always a certain redhead by keni’s side, usually chewing on a piece of corn and making keni smile, even if it's out of exasperation. yu yan has known keni for years, even longer than lingzi has, and she can tell her friend is in good hands. 

the biggest surprise comes halfway through their voice lesson, while they’re listening to the other team practice. lingzi’s spirits are light, still floating from the praise ella had given her after she had sung her lines. it isn’t until chuhan shakes her by the shoulder the shoulder that she realizes something is wrong. 

jiaqi’s eyes are glassy with tears as she stares unseeingly at the opposite wall. yuzhuo is whispering in her ear, but there's no response. lingzi’s mood plummets at the sight, concern rising through her like a tidal wave, snuffing out her previous joy.

it takes a long conversation, tears from two more people, and yuzhuo’s unwavering patience for them to talk everything out. lingzi sits by jiaqi’s side the entire time, holding her hand and squeezing slightly every time the other girl chokes up. finally, they agree to work harder, to help each other with each and every component so they can put their best performance out there. 

and just like that, jiaqi is back to work, throwing herself into practice with determination etched across her face. she works on the choreography with yuzhuo, spends hours finding the right inflections and tones for her rap with chuhan, and attempts her opening vocal run in any spare moment they get. 

two days before the performance, jiaqi is still as diligent as ever. lingzi doesn’t remember the last time she’d seen jiaqi return to the dorms. for all she knows, the other girl could have spent the last four nights sleeping on the floor of their practice room. jiaqi hadn't gone to lunch today either, choosing to continue rapping even as the rest of the team headed for the cafeteria.

it's nearing four in the afternoon, and lingzi is sprawled on the ground, taking a break after another full run through of the choreography and vocals. jiaqi’s voice floats over to her from the other side of the studio, lilting over the words of her rap one more time. when she restarts the verse again, lingzi decides she’s had enough. 

she pushes herself off the ground and moves across the room in a couple long, quick strides. jiaqi turns to face her, earbuds still connected to her mp3 player. 

“let's go take a break.” lingzi says decisively. when jiaqi shakes her head, lingzi sighs and unplugs the earbuds for her. “come on. you haven't eaten all day, and we can't have you passing out during dress rehearsal.”

jiaqi looks like she wants to protest, but at lingzi’s frown, she nods. “okay.”

they walk side by side through the halls until they reach the lockers, where lingzi beckons jiaqi over. “let me grab something real quick.”

she pulls open the blue metal door, shuffles through the piles of clothes on the locker floor, before extracting three extra meal kits she had hoarded from the cafeteria during lunch. the staff had gotten so used to giving lingzi the food for all five oaca girls that they had momentarily forgotten the departure of three of her friends and still handed her the extra boxes. she hands one to jiaqi, complete with a pair of chopsticks and a couple napkins, before closing the locker and heading for the balcony door.

“where did you get this?” jiaqi asks, trailing behind her, voice full of confusion. “sun rui keeps complaining about how we aren't allowed to have extra food.”

“long story.” lingzi waves a hand dismissively. they settle down on the rooftop, and lingzi pops open the top of one of the food boxes. “eat. you must be starving.”

jiaqi opens her own container, sliding the chopsticks out of their paper wrapper. lingzi was right about her hunger, because the other girl devours the food at an inhuman speed. they're quiet for several minutes, the only sound being the clack of their chopsticks against plastic.

finally, jiaqi pauses, reaching for a napkin to wipe at the edges of her mouth. the container in front of her is mostly empty. “thanks,” she says, “it was great.”

lingzi snorts. “you're welcome, but the cafeteria food here is most definitely not great.”

jiaqi giggles at that, the first genuine laugh she's given in days. warmth swells in lingzi’s heart at the sound. “you're right. i can’t wait to go out to eat after this whole thing is over.”

“want this one too?” lingzi picks up the third container of food, still untouched. jiaqi nods eagerly, and lingzi opens it, setting it down between the two of them to share. 

“whose performance are you most excited to see?” lingzi asks conversationally as jiaqi begins another attack on the fresh food. 

“how am i so good looking.” jiaqi replies, voice muffled by the food in her mouth. “how! am i! so good looking!” she singsongs, comically high-pitched, dropping her chopsticks to mime the iconic hand motions. lingzi bursts into laughter at the sight. 

“i should've picked that. would have blown the competition away.” jiaqi grins. 

“oh yea,” lingzi agrees, “yu shuxin wouldn't stand a chance.”

jiaqi giggles again, covering her mouth with her hand. the golden afternoon sunlight softens her edges, creating a reflective halo in her black hair. lingzi’s heart beats a little faster. 

“what about you?” jiaqi asks, reaching for another bite of food. “who do you want to see?”

“hm.” lingzi thinks for a moment. “ambush on all sides. the choreography looks really cool.” 

“you're right,” jiaqi agrees “i've heard they've been having a hard time with it. breakdowns in the bathroom and everything.”

“i walked in on yu yan yelling at keni to stop crying last night.” lingzi says. “definitely a hard time.”

they finish the rest of the food quickly, appetites huge from the long hours of dancing. lingzi closes the empty containers once they're done, grabbing the used napkins and chopsticks in her other hand. “let's go?” she glances at jiaqi, who nods and rises from her seat on the balcony floor.

“thanks again for the food.” she says as they make their way back inside, lingzi tossing their trash into a can by the entrance to the building. “i was really hungry.”

“i could tell. you ate three whole boxes of food.” lingzi teases. jiaqi makes an indignant noise.

“hey, you ate at least half of it!”

they're still laughing when they enter the practice room, where yuzhuo and wang qing are perfecting their lines. jiaqi gives lingzi a little wave before heading back over to pick up her mp3 again, opening up her notebook to find her rap lyrics. lingzi takes up her own spot in front of the mirror, preparing to walk through the choreography one more time. 

the next time jiaqi’s rap reaches lingzi’s ears, there's a newfound tinge of happiness to her tone.

—

their dress rehearsal is scheduled to start at 10pm (again, lingzi wants to know who organized the filming timetables; they're awful). she heads over to the stage at quarter past nine, giving herself enough time to get changed and do proper performance makeup. 

the outfits aren’t bad, especially with what the other teams had reported. lingzi silently thanks the world for not making her wear that weird pink dress xueer had described during dinner. the silky black dress and sparkling silver belt that the wardrobe coordinators had handed her was much more manageable. 

she's just finishing up with her makeup when jiaqi walks into the room, having just changed into her own costume. lingzi’s eyes take in jiaqi’s toned legs, the exposed strip of skin right below her collarbone, her short hair pulled up into an elegant ponytail. she swallows heavily, trying to pull her attention back to applying her lipstick.

it doesn't work very well. jiaqi is just too magnetic, too good at catching lingzi’s attention, especially when she looks that stunning.

jiaqi taps lingzi on the shoulder a couple minutes later. “want to run the choreography with me? i need to get the feel of these heels.” lingzi nods, stomach flipping at jiaqi’s resultant smile, as dazzling as the rhinestones on her dress.

they move through the steps, monitoring themselves in one of the dressing room mirrors. jiaqi’s dress hugs her in all the right places, makes her moves look even more charming than in the practice room, magnifies her sexy expressions. lingzi dances through pure muscle memory, eyes unable to stay on her own figure in the mirror, always darting towards jiaqi instead.

they reach the first pre-chorus, and jiaqi presses herself close to lingzi’s back, reaching a hand out for lingzi to catch. her other hand slides across lingzi’s body, resting on her waist for a split second before sliding away. lingzi’s face heats up at the image they make in the mirror, so close together, jiaqi’s lips right by her ear. flustered, she nearly fumbles the next steps, desperately hoping that her makeup is thick enough to hide her growing blush.

judging by the slight smirk on jiaqi’s face, it definitely was not.

—

lingzi comes to a conclusion sometime during the revenge battle mission. from her spot on the studio floor, she watches jiaqi sign her name on the whiteboard next to the mama center position, and suddenly her own choice is crystal clear. as soon as the directors call her name, she's reaching for the dry-erase marker, scrawling her own signature next to jiaqi’s, and dashing out of the room and down the hall.

the mama practice room is already buzzing with chatter when lingzi walks in. jiaqi reaches towards lingzi, giving her a tight hug before she skips over to sit with the rest of the girls. the noise around them seems to muffle itself, jiaqi’s presence forming its own little bubble around just the two of them.

they fall back into their practice routine easily, drilling the dance, learning the lyrics, perfecting their formations. the mama choreography is difficult, calling for a level of power that lingzi has never really tried to achieve, leaving its mark in the form of sore muscles and sweat beaded over her forehead. their time limit only adds to the pressure, pushing lingzi to spend as much time in the practice room as possible so she can be sure that she's mastered every movement, from the flicks of her wrist to the quick footwork patterns. she barely leaves during the forty-eight hours before filming, choosing to take quick power naps on the floor instead of returning to her dormitory bed each night. 

her teammates keep her company, practicing just as hard by lingzi’s side. duan yixuan works with her to plan out the harmonies for their high notes, showing off her opera techniques and layering them over lingzi’s lower tones. she spends an afternoon with qi sui, helping her learn the lyrics to her rap with the correct pronunciations. the other girl has improved leaps and bounds over the last few months, wrapping her tongue around the unfamiliar syllables quickly and stringing together the whole verse after only a few tries. she's got a natural talent for dancing too, managing to keep up with lingzi and ruohan when they polish the choreography together. 

and of course, jiaqi is there through it all, a constant presence in the practice room. the style of this choreography is familiar to her, sharp and clean and full of strength, and she masters the dance with unmatched ease. her lines come quickly too, jiaqi’s voice falling comfortably into mama’s range, and she’s pieced it all together after just one and a half days of practice. keyin visits once, summoned by shangguan xi’ai to help them with the dance, and nearly walks out after she watches jiaqi run through the entire song.

“just ask her to help you. i've got nothing.” she had said, exasperated. jiaqi had laughed, the sound floating over xi’ai’s protests of “wait! don't go, we need you!”

rather than resting, jiaqi uses her precious spare time to help out the girls around her. she organizes their formations first, scrutinizing them in the mirror and making corrections whenever she spots a mistake, no matter how minuscule. once, she asks ruohan to move half a centimeter to the left, which makes yixuan break down into a fit of giggles. jiaqi helps them each individually too, walking lingzi through a good chunk of the dance break that she just can't seem to perfect. she articulates the movements with sound effects until the sequence is instilled into lingzi’s brain. each time they run the song after that, lingzi can hear jiaqi’s voice in her head, calling out each count. 

maybe this is where lingzi’s conclusion starts to take shape, somewhere between shouting along with jiaqi and the other girl’s enthusiastic cheering when she finally gets the steps right.

other trainees flock to their room too, seeking jiaqi’s assistance with r and b all night. it reminds lingzi a bit of the theme song preparations, of jiaqi’s self-organized group classes. there's just 60 of them left now, soon to be 35, but they're all still fighting for that same chance to stay on stage. the thought only propels lingzi to practice more, until she feels like collapsing from the ache in her legs.

even though she doesn't show it, jiaqi’s energy does have a limit. it finally manifests at the end of their second day of practice. lingzi’s working the dance over again with lin fan, whose smile has become slightly strained after messing up the movements one too many times. dai meng’s dancing with jiaqi a few feet away, checking the details of r and b all night. the two of them have been at it for the better part of the afternoon, switching between their two songs, working in tandem like a well-oiled machine. training together for eight years would do that to you, lingzi figures. 

dai meng finally leaves, patting jiaqi on the head with a reminder to “get some rest and take care of yourself” and waving at the rest of the room at large before making her exit. lingzi’s only half paying attention, demonstrating one tricky step of the dance to lin fan. twenty minutes later, she backs away to give her friend some more space, and nearly trips over something on the floor.

jiaqi’s lying on her back, fast asleep. she must have dozed off mid-stretch, because her knees are bent and pressed back towards the floor, opening up her hips. her face is peaceful, sharp features relaxed into a serene expression. 

“should we…” qi sui asks lingzi cautiously, gesturing at jiaqi’s sleeping figure. lingzi shakes her head.

“no, let her sleep. she needs it.”

jiaqi wakes up a couple hours later. lingzi sees her rise into a sitting position in the mirror, blinking the sleepiness out of her eyes.

“how long was i out for?” she asks, yawning. 

“about two hours.” lingzi answers, still dancing. “you should probably go back to the dorms, it's late.”

jiaqi shakes her head, pushing herself to her feet. “let’s practice.”

lingzi puts the song on the overhead speakers, taking her starting position. jiaqi dances by her side, facial expressions carefully controlled, just enough power in her movements.

the conclusion hits lingzi in full force as they settle into the final pose, music pausing for a couple seconds before looping back to the opening notes. lingzi takes in the two of them, side by side in the mirror, chests rising and falling in unison, and she can only think of one thing.

she wants to stand by jiaqi’s side for as long as she can.

—

as soon as the talent show is announced, lingzi knows she needs to prepare something, needs to take full advantage of the potential extra screentime. the idea hits her one night at the dorms, as she listens to keni lazily hum yes ok! under her breath while she takes off her makeup. lingzi sits up suddenly, nearly hitting her head on the low ceiling before she climbs down from her bed, grabbing the nearest pen and scribbling a reminder on her hand: _ask staff for yes ok! piano version_.

she has the file on her mp3 by the end of the next day, running towards the practice rooms as soon she’s finished her dinner. lingzi plays the music a couple times before starting her choreography, finding comfort in the elegance and grace that she weaves into each movement. she hasn't gotten a chance to dance like this in a while, and she’s missed it sorely.

the familiarity of her old style soon dissipates into frustration. lingzi’s working through the song at a painfully slow pace, and there's really not much time before the show itself. it would be much easier if she had someone to work with, but she's fairly certain that everyone else has already planned their own acts, leaving her with no choice but to go solo. 

the practice rooms have been pretty empty for a couple of days, save for a few of the other talent show participants. everyone is scattered, filming various segments in a variety of locations, leaving the halls of the changlong building strangely vacant. it's unsettling to take the elevators without seeing someone on the way, a drastic change from having all sixty girls crowded into one story of the complex. 

it's the emptiness that allows lingzi to pick up the sound of footsteps and quiet conversation coming from all the way down the hall one afternoon, as she’s stretching before starting to work on her performance again. the voices draw nearer, interspersed with a familiar laugh, finally reaching the entrance of lingzi’s practice room a few minutes later.

dai meng’s head appears, peeking around the edge of the doorframe. lingzi gives her a wave, which she takes as an invitation to enter. behind her comes jiaqi, who strides towards lingzi as soon as she sees her.

“what are you up to?” she asks, eyes sparkling.

“working on my talent show act.” lingzi answers, switching positions to loosen up her hamstrings. “i’m dancing to a ballad version of yes ok.”

dai meng snorts. “see xu jiaqi, i told you people were actually going to take it seriously.”

lingzi glances up at her and then at jiaqi, who rolls her eyes. “what are you doing, then?”

“shelling a crayfish with my mouth.” jiaqi says smugly. lingzi stares at her, confused. 

“it’s a good idea! i’m sure the fans would love to see what i can do with my tongue.” jiaqi defends herself. lingzi almost chokes at her choice of words, turning away and shifting into another stretch so she can hide her face. _don’t think about that don't think about that don't think—_

“you're an idiot.” dai meng says, exasperated fondness seeping into her tone. 

“can we see what your dance looks like?” jiaqi asks lingzi, ignoring dai meng. 

“i don’t have much done.” lingzi sighs. “i forgot how hard it is to choreograph alone.”

“i can help you if you don’t mind?” jiaqi suggests. “i don't want to intrude! but if you think having another person would help—”

“that would be amazing.” lingzi cuts her off in a rush. “please.”

“i’m going to go grab something to eat.” dai meng announces, heading for the door. “have fun!” she winks in lingzi’s direction before leaving, footsteps receding down the hall.

“so what do you have?” jiaqi asks, settling into her own set of stretches. 

lingzi plugs her mp3 into the speakers, marking out the few seconds she has planned for jiaqi to see. she turns back to the other girl when she’s done. 

“it's not great, but i don't really have much time,” lingzi sighs, pushing her hair away from her face. 

“it's pretty good, actually.” jiaqi replies. “what if you added an arm motion here?”

they talk through the dance for a few minutes, jiaqi giving pointers and lingzi adjusting accordingly. jiaqi’s suggestions make a world of difference, and once they've made it through all of the existing choreography, an idea has blossomed in her mind.

“hey, what if we danced it as a duet?” lingzi asks, sitting down on the floor to catch her breath. jiaqi’s eyes widen.

“but this is your chance to do a solo! i don't want to take that away from you!”

“it’s not that important whether it's a solo or a duet, i’ll still be on stage.” lingzi shrugs. “besides, the choreography is coming much quicker with your help.” she thinks for a moment before adding, “they're probably more likely to air a duet anyway. fans will eat it right up.”

“you're sure?” jiaqi still looks wary of the idea. 

“one hundred percent.” lingzi says decisively. “come on, let's adjust the beginning and then we can move on.”

she turns out to be right about the increase in speed. jiaqi’s input makes the entire process so much smoother, and they finish the rest of the choreography within that afternoon. they spend the next day rehearsing it all, making sure they're in sync, matching their angles and counts as best as they can.

lingzi really likes how the final product turns out. in her head, she envisions the outlines of a story, two girls reaching for each other, bound by fate and coincidence alike. the piano instrumental adds a sentimental quality to it, a distant promise, one that ties their characters together. each time they dance it through, it feels intimate, touching something very close to lingzi’s heart. wherever they touch lingzi’s skin breaks out in goosebumps, the ghost of the contact lingering long after jiaqi has pulled away.

on the day of the talent show, lingzi finds herself jittery with nerves. she doesn't know why, considering she’s been doing public performances for the last four months and this is simply an informal gathering of friends. still, her hands shake a little as she waits to be called up from the audience.

she enjoys watching the show, though. it’s entertaining to see what her fellow trainees had scraped together. she nearly cries laughing at lin fan’s puppet show, screams in awe when dai meng chops a watermelon in half with her bare hands (that girl is scary, lingzi never wants to get on her bad side), and cheers with all her might for zihan’s impressive face changing routine. 

jiaqi, true to her word, shells not just one crayfish with her mouth, but four. lingzi watches in fascination as she pulls out the clean pieces of meat to show off to the cheering audience, proud smile on her face, before gulping them down. the thought of jiaqi’s tongue dexterity makes lingzi’s mouth go dry, and she has to force herself to think of something else.

then anqi is calling her name, and she's stepping up to take the mic. lingzi invites jiaqi out to the stage, thanks her for her help, and they get into their opening pose. 

the opening notes of the piano play, and they begin to move. lingzi lets herself flow from one motion to another, losing herself in the emotions of the dance. her arm movements are graceful and connected, her lines long and beautiful. she reaches out for jiaqi, and the other girl mirrors her, hands brushing over each other as they draw nearer and pull away, twin swans floating over a smooth lake surface.

instead of just goosebumps, there are now white-hot sparks wherever they make contact. lingzi’s chest flutters each time they intertwined hands, each time they press close to each other, heart rate rising all the while. jiaqi’s eyes are full of some sort of longing, gazing at lingzi with such intensity that she almost wants to look away. she doesn't though, staring back, a strange sorrow washing over her. 

all too soon they're in their ending pose, hands intertwining, eyes locked onto each other one final time. there's a moment of silence, a pause, before their audience starts to applaud. lingzi registers the sound, but it’s vague, as if coming from a far away place. there's only one thought in her mind, repeating over and over and over, blocking out everything else around her. 

_i’m in love with her_.

—

in retrospect, lingzi really should have known sooner. her feelings for jiaqi have been so evident in every single moment they've been together: from her initial magnetism, to the fondness of their conversations on the rooftop, to the warmth in lingzi’s stomach when jiaqi had pulled her into a hug after their win for mama was announced. it was all there, right in front of her this whole time. she doesn't understand how she didn’t figure it out earlier. 

all the same, the weight of her realization hits her like a freight train, sending her flying. lingzi wants to laugh, wants to cry, wants to scream in sheer frustration. she spends the night after the talent show lying wide awake in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking it all over. by the morning, she’s made up her mind.

she’s nearly positive that her emotions aren't reciprocated. why would they be, when jiaqi could have any girl in changlong, or even any girl in the country? why would she pick lingzi? the more she thinks about it, the more certain she becomes. what she’s feeling is most definitely unrequited.

the other thing lingzi knows, knows with all her heart, is that she can't let this affect either of them. she needs to keep her head in the game, stay focused on her final goal. she can't burden jiaqi with this either, not when the other girl is so close to achieving the dream she’s been chasing for eight years and counting. if lingzi slips up, if her true view of jiaqi somehow becomes public knowledge, this could spell disaster for both of them, ruining whatever chance at a career they might have.

so lingzi does the only thing she can think of: she pulls away. she stops looking for jiaqi at mealtimes, stops starting conversations or trying to get the other girl’s attention. whenever jiaqi approaches her, lingzi gives short, monosyllabic answers, closing herself off and forcing down the tossing and turning in her gut. her heart twinges at jiaqi’s hurt look after each time lingzi brushes her off, but she reminds herself that it’s for the best, that it’s what she needs to do.

jiaqi gets the message pretty quickly. she too stops finding lingzi in the lounge between practices, stops attempting to talk to lingzi altogether. it's made easier by their new teams, which have finally split them up, with lingzi in no company and jiaqi in non-daily revelry. a couple times, lingzi catches jiaqi looking at her from across the cafeteria, or as they pass each other in a hallway, but the other always looks away as soon as lingzi makes eye contact. 

the sudden lack of jiaqi in her life creates an aching hole in lingzi, leaving her feeling hollow and empty. she goes through the motions every day, eating and dancing and singing and sleeping, but her heart’s not in it at all. her friends notice, xinyi giving her concerned glances during practice and lin fan trying extra hard to strike up conversation over lunch and dinner, but none of them ever ask her what’s wrong. lingzi’s honestly grateful for that; she’s pretty sure if she talks about it, she’ll shatter on the spot.

second round eliminations are an absolute disaster. when kun calls her up for tenth place, mixed emotions swirl through lingzi’s mind, happiness and disappointment all rolled into one. she has improved, yes, but it still isn’t enough to break into the top nine. so close, yet so far.

there have been so many almosts, lingzi thinks, settling into the number ten chair. first her b rankings, then her second place with bad guy, then her second place with r and b all night. good, but never good enough. she needs to break the pattern, somehow force her way to the top. there's a weight in her stomach as she thinks of the tasks to come, of how well she’ll need to perform to finally make it to her goal.

the real shock comes when jiaqi is announced in seventh place. lingzi can’t help but gasp, hands clapping over her mouth, watching as jiaqi makes her way down from the chairs. her face nearly crumples when she’s halfway over to kun, but she pulls herself back together, taking the mic to make her speech.

her singing is what breaks lingzi’s resolve, what finally makes the tears fall. lingzi wipes at her eyes with the heel of her hand as jiaqi’s sweet voice rings from the speakers, promising not to give up, not to give in. 

what hurts the most is the fact that lingzi can’t go comfort her, can’t hug her and hold her and assure her that she’ll be okay. she can't jeopardize jiaqi any further, especially not with this new development already dragging her down. 

lingzi can only watch from afar, arms hanging limp by her sides and heart aching in her chest.

(after filming ends, lingzi stops by the practice rooms to retrieve a sweatshirt she had accidentally left behind the day before. as she’s walking back towards the elevators, she glances out the windows at the rooftop. 

jiaqi is curled up in lingzi’s usual spot by the railing, face hidden in her hands. lingzi recognizes her by the now disheveled bun on top of her head, slightly askew. she’s are shaking so violently that lingzi can see the movement of her shoulders even from several meters away.

lingzi moves on instinct, hand reaching out for the balcony door, before she remembers. she can't. not anymore.

she takes one last look out the windows, concern and sorrow and heartbreak welling up in her chest, before squashing all her feelings down and heading towards the exit.

 _i'm sorry._ )

—

the next few days are unbearably quiet, the weight of eliminations sinking into all 35 remaining girls. the worst of it comes when they realize they have to shuffle their teams and that one of them must leave no company, must abandon everything they’ve learned and start anew with a completely different concept. lingzi writes the names down in the order she’s decided on her voting card, trepidation in her heart.

in the end, it’s mo han who gets voted out. she breaks down at the news, her already difficult journey only worsened by this new development. lingzi moves to comfort her, but something in her snaps as she watches mo han cry, and suddenly her own tears are hitting the floor. even as mo han steadies herself and leaves to find the waiting production crew, lingzi curls in on herself, leaning against the wall for support, trying desperately to choke down the sobs welling up in her throat. 

it's as if everything from the last couple weeks has finally come crashing down, knocking lingzi straight into the ground. it takes keni’s gentle voice and xinyi’s hand rubbing slow circles on her back to finally calm her down, their arms around her supporting her weight as they lead her back to the practice room.

when the relocations have finished and lin fan’s new position in knock knock is announced, both keran and xinyi blanch, even worse than before. they're out the door in a flash, racing down the hall in a panicked frenzy. 

when they return, xinyi’s eyes are swollen and keran’s face is still concerningly pale. lingzi hugs xinyi, feeling the other girl’s breath coming in short, shallow pants. somewhere beside her, nai wan is talking to keran, voice low and soft. 

“let’s keep practicing, yea?” yuzhuo finally suggests. lingzi lets go of xinyi, who takes a deep breath and nods, moving back over to her spot in their formation. someone puts the music back on, and the team resumes their work, slowly readjusting to their new numbers.

after a couple days, it becomes clear that the hardest part of their performance is not the dancing, but the singing. none of them are really vocally focused, and the power and tone that the song calls for is incredibly difficult to match. the increasing pressure in the atmosphere doesn't help. lingzi is hyper aware of the fact that this could be the final stage for some of them, their last chance to fight for a spot in the finale. 

exhaustion becomes a permanent resident in lingzi’s body, carving itself deep into her bones. her throat goes sore from overuse, but she keeps pushing, desperate to master her lines before their group lessons in order to at least appear adequate in front of the cameras. 

the mentors give them mixed feedback. lisa absolutely loves it, picking keran as one of her favorite centers of the day and complimenting their dancing overall. but their vocals aren't nearly as up to par, garnering criticism from both ella and silence. lingzi knows her teammates take it hard, absorbing more of the harsh words than the praises. she can already envision the voice exercises they'll be drilling for the next few days, singing while holding planks in an attempt to control their breathing.

she sits on the bench with keni for the rest of the lessons, watching the other groups. they're all strong in their own ways: the powerful movements in lion, the silky voices in light orange island. but once the mentors have finally finished, it's clear to everyone which team is the most prepared: non-daily revelry. there's so much energy in their dancing, stability to their vocals, attitude around the edges of their rap. they could just debut as a group, lingzi thinks, and they'd take the world by storm.

xueer makes for a good center, but lingzi finds herself watching jiaqi anyway, just as she always has. it hurts to look at her, but lingzi still can’t pull her gaze away, completely drawn in as the other girl sings and dances with renewed vigor.. 

jiaqi shines brighter than ever before, receiving well-deserved praise from both lisa and ella. she had evidently taken advantage of her latest setback, bouncing back into action almost immediately and with incredible results. her smiles are wider too, and she falls over from laughing when she accidentally takes xueer’s shoe off on their first run through. there's unbridled energy radiating from jiaqi, filling the room with the sound of her laughter and the sharpness in her movements.

jiaqi is thriving. without lingzi at her side. _she doesn't need you_ , lingzi tells herself, _you only dragged her down. look at her now._

even when other groups are performing, lingzi still sneaks glances towards the non-daily revelry team, just to catch glimpses of jiaqi. she's almost always clinging to xueer, holding the other girl’s hand or with an arm over her shoulder, whispering to her with a hand cupped over her mouth. jealousy roars in lingzi’s chest at the sight. she wishes it was her next to jiaqi, tucked into her embrace while trading quiet remarks. 

jiaqi doesn't look her way once in the three hours they spend in front of the cameras. lingzi doesn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

—

they head straight back to the practice rooms after the lesson, air tense with thoughts of their criticism.

“our dance is fine. it’s the singing that’s not working.” nai wan announces, sitting down on the floor. lingzi joins her, watches the other girl's brow furrows as she tries to think up a solution.

“so that's what we’ll focus on.” yuzhuo decides. “there's no point in moping over it. we still have a couple days, let's make the most of them.”

it plays out just as it had in lingzi’s mind, the seven of them trying every method they can think of to improve their voices. it comes to a point where keni’s singing all the time: when they walk to the cafeteria, when they leave for the dorms, even during their quick dashes to the bathroom. lingzi can’t remember the last time she went five minutes without hearing keni belt “let me see your face”. 

she’s leaning against the practice room wall one day, taking a sip of water to soothe her aching vocal chords. someone taps her on the shoulder and lingzi lowers the plastic bottle, coming face to face with zhang yuge.

“what's up?” she asks cautiously. 

“i wanted to talk to you about something.” yuge answers, her voice as soft and quiet as ever. 

“about the performance?” lingzi sets down the water bottle before turning to give yuge her full attention. out of all the girls on the team, she’s probably talked to yuge the least, knows little about her other than her nickname and her laser-like focus on her dancing. 

“no. it’s, um, about jiaqi.” yuge looks away, glancing down at her scuffed sneakers. lingzi’s entire body goes rigid at the name. 

“what is it?” she concentrates on keeping her voice level, trying not to let her spike of anxiety show.

yuge raises her head again, staring straight into lingzi’s eyes. “what happened between you two?” 

“what do you mean?” lingzi asks, faking confusion. yuge frowns, not buying it.

“you know what i mean.” the other girl’s voice takes on an uncharacteristically hard edge. “why haven't you been talking to her?”

“it’s… complicated.” lingzi sighs. 

yuge’s eyes narrow. “she's torn up over it, you know. whatever you did, it hurt.”

lingzi feels a spark of anger ignite within her. “it hurt me too. but i did what i had to do. you wouldn't understand.”

“try me.” yuge lifts her chin, defiance flashing in her gaze. 

lingzi hesitates. should she? letting her feelings out into the open is incredibly dangerous, but yuge seems to have jiaqi’s best interests at heart. besides, a part of lingzi wants to talk about it, let everything spill out from the bottle she’s been suppressing her emotions in.

“fine. but you can't tell anyone else.” at yuge’s nod, she takes a deep breath, before the words rush out of her all at once.

“i like her. a lot. but she definitely doesn't like me back and it doesn't matter anyway because if anyone finds out it might ruin her chances at debuting and i can't do that to her. she deserves this.”

“oh.” understanding dawns across yuge’s expression, softening her features. “i see.”

they're quiet for a while, lingzi trying to calm down from her sudden outburst and yuge apparently lost in thought. 

“she misses you,” yuge finally says.

“i miss her too. but i just can't—” lingzi breaks off, gesturing with her hands.

“she'd be happier with you at her side.” yuge points out. lingzi opens her mouth to reply, but yuge pushes onward. “i know you want to protect her and her dream, but have you ever thought that pulling away is ruining it even more? she wants you there with her on this journey, and the journey’s really much more important than the destination.”

lingzi thinks it over. yuge has a point, shedding light on a perspective she hadn't really considered before. was she just making everything worse? jiaqi deserves to succeed, but she also deserves to be happy, and lingzi’s really just ruining her happiness by breaking away like this.

“debut isn't the only thing jiaqi cares about.” yuge adds, as if she’s read lingzi’s mind. “she loves the people around her just as much, if not more.”

everything yuge is saying finally comes together in lingzi’s head. fuck. she had really messed up, had made the entire situation worse instead of making it better. 

“what should i do?” lingzi asks, voice barely above a whisper. “i need to fix it, don’t i? but she probably hates me now.”

“she doesn't hate you.” yuge replies, a firm confidence in her tone. “just talk to her. she’ll hear you out. tell her the truth, she deserves to know.”

 _the truth_. lingzi’s not sure if she can do that, confess her feelings to jiaqi. but yuge’s right, she does deserve to know. 

she’ll do it, she decides, but she’ll give herself a few days to gather herself first.

“okay. thanks for telling me.” lingzi says. yuge nods in acknowledgement, turning back around to return to her practice spot.

“oh, and lingzi?” she calls over her shoulder. “don’t be so sure your feelings are unrequited.”

—

her conversation with yuge haunts lingzi for a long time, even after they've moved on from the concept evaluations to the next part of the show. their performance went well, but it still couldn't win. as she listens to kun introduce the mentor collaboration stage, lingzi wonders if there will ever be anything other than an almost for her on this show. 

before preparations for their next performance really begin, the directors announce that there will be a farewell party for those who don't make the top 20. they make a pretty big deal out of it, asking each girl to write a thank you letter to the people who have helped them through the show. lingzi gets partway through hers before pausing in consideration.

 _it’s just a letter. be honest._ before she can think twice, she’s scribbling down the name, pouring out all her thank yous until she has none left to give. 

she reuses an old piece of choreography for her performance, too burnt out to come up with something original this time around. it's pretty easy to put together, muscle memory reigniting after going over the steps a few times. 

nearly every trainee has decided to do something for this party, even more than for the talent show. keni picks a traditional chinese dance, yanni mentions something in passing about ballet, yu yan and yuxin are rumored to be performing original songs. even if it's just an informal gathering, all of them are still hungry to stand on a stage, to be seen by an audience.

a gray duvet appears in the lounge one day out of nowhere, lying in a heap on the floor. lingzi notices it when she's packing up her things one night.

“what's that for?” she asks lin fan, pointing.

“oh, that's jiaqi’s, i think. chuhan said she's doing four or five different performances for the party, so she's practically been living in the practice rooms,” lin fan answers. lingzi stops as she registers the number.

“five?” she asks, incredulous. 

“yep. apparently her screen time's been getting cut, so i think she just wants to make it into episode at least once.”

a burst of worry shoots through lingzi at the thought. less screen time would definitely hurt jiaqi’s numbers, which she really can't afford after such a precarious placement last time around. still, lingzi silently hopes jiaqi isn't overworking herself too much just for a party performance. 

the staff really go all out this time around, arming each girl with light up headbands, glow sticks, bubble guns, and noisemakers, before sending them on their way to the outdoor stage. lingzi’s wearing her performance outfit, an old blue costume that she had brought along to changlong just in case, but most of the other girls are dressed in casual, comfortable outfits. it’s a little odd seeing them like this, in so many colors and patterns and styles, rather than in their matching nike shirts and track pants that they’re always wearing to practice. 

the atmosphere that settles over the event is strange. lingzi finds herself laughing every other minute, cringing along with the rest of them when they rewatch their introduction videos, letting out chuckles at keyin and xinwen’s impressions, snorting slightly at all of shuxin’s antics. but there's also something heavier settling into her chest at the same time, spurred on by keyin’s rap, yuxin and yu yan’s songs, and the voice in the back of her mind that reminds her that at the end of the day, this is meant to be a farewell. after the mentor collaboration performances end, they’ll be in the final round of eliminations, and fifteen more of them will have to leave the stage. 

her dance goes by in the blink of an eye, moving through the choreography with ease. from her seat the audience, lingzi cheers for the rest of the girls: xiaotang’s bowl balancing, anqi and xi'ai’s beautiful vocals, the energetic young asia stage. she’s surrounded by smiles, by the deep bonds that have formed between all thirty five of them in the last four months. lingzi never wants to let go of this moment.

the mc returns to the stage after all the performances have ended, carrying a box emblazoned with the show’s logo on the side. she announces that their thank you letters are all mixed inside, and that they’ll be reading them to each other from the stage. lingzi’s heart jolts at this news, mind flashing back to her own highly personal thoughts.

everyone gets emotional as soon as the activity starts. next to lingzi, xinyi and zihan are holding onto each other, eyes watering ever so slightly as they listen to the various declarations of gratitude. lingzi sniffles a couple times herself, until suddenly her name is being called and hands are pushing her out of her seat towards the stage.

she gets through the beginning of her letter without incident, until she reaches the second person she had written about. lingzi pauses, trying to decide whether she should read this part aloud, whether it’s really a good idea.

she had written it down because it was the truth. now was her chance to tell it.

“the second person i want to thank is xu jiaqi.” lingzi’s voice rings out, clear and solid. a ripple passes through the crowd of trainees, but lingzi ignores it, pushing onwards.

“thank you for standing by my side as a teammate for two difficult performances. you helped me improve my dancing, pushed me to new heights, and convinced me to keep going even when i didn't think i could. thank you for all of our shared meals, our practice sessions, and every single one of our conversations. you gave me so many happy memories that i’ll treasure in my heart forever. thank you.”

lingzi looks up, eyes finding jiaqi in the audience. the other girl stares back at her, gaze unreadable. lingzi gives her a flicker of a smile before looking back down at her paper and moving on. 

when she finishes, she folds up the paper and hands it back to the mc, returning to her seat. xinyi and zihan immediately pull her into a small group hug, which lingzi melts into, heart rate finally slowing as she blinks back her tears. when she closes her eyes, all she can see is jiaqi, watching her as she read out her words of thanks. 

the snh48 girls close out the party, moving most of the audience to sobs one more time. lingzi snaps photo after photo with her film camera, trying to capture the moment as best as she can. she reaches out for them as they move through the audience, catching their hands and giving them watery smiles. when jiaqi reaches her, she pauses, mic still raised to her lips. 

_talk to her_ , yuge’s voice echoes in her mind. _she deserves to know._

“i’ll wait for you after?” lingzi calls before she can stop herself, loud enough that jiaqi can hear her over the voices around them. jiaqi hesitates, then nods once before walking away to console a crying keni. lingzi swallows down her nerves and looks in the other direction, focusing on the girls who she has yet to greet.

when the trainees finally disperse to leave for the dorms, lingzi stays behind, taking a seat on the edge of the bleachers. keni gives her a questioning look, and lingzi tilts her head towards jiaqi, who’s standing with yixuan and talking with one of the cameramen.

keni’s expression morphs into understanding. she unzips her windbreaker, draping it over lingzi’s shoulders. “good luck.” she whispers, smiling, before running to catch up with sun rui and dai meng on their way out.

yixuan and jiaqi climb onto the stage, carrying a piece of black tarp with them. another performance, lingzi realizes, as the duo makes some last minute adjustments with the camera crew.

lin fan’s assumption that jiaqi was preparing as many stages as possible had turned out to be correct. she had already been on stage three times: for youth of asia, the snh song, and her own solo routine. she had worn one sneaker and one pointe shoe, mixing traditional ballet with hip hop elements to a piece of electronic music. her dancing had been as flawless as ever, every movement precise and clean, commanding the unusual blend of styles with complete control. 

lingzi had found herself captivated by jiaqi yet again. 

yixuan and jiaqi finally take up their starting positions as the director announces the start of filming. lingzi watches, mesmerized, as they begin their performance. there's so much meaning to all their movements, both in their dancing and their facial expressions, keeping lingzi on the edge of her seat the entire time. she finally understands the point of the tarp when yixuan drops down onto it before rising again, white shirt covered in colorful paint. jiaqi follows suit, her hands also turning shades of blue and yellow as she rakes them over the material before she reaches back out for yixuan. by the end of the performance, lingzi is breathless, having lost herself completely in the rawness of their emotions.

someone calls cut, and both yixuan and jiaqi bow, thanking the crew before stepping off the stage. yixuan heads straight for the exit of the area, but jiaqi moves towards lingzi instead, stopping once she’s a few feet away.

“what is it?” her voice is cold and composed, nothing like the brightness she had given lingzi the last time they had really talked, all those weeks ago.

lingzi takes a deep breath. “i need to tell you something.”

—

ten minutes later, they've found their way back onto the rooftop balcony, standing side by side under the dark night sky. it’s ironic, lingzi thinks, how this was where they'd had their first real conversation. she hopes with all her might that this isn't their last.

“what did you want to say?” jiaqi asks, staring out over the railing at the distant amusement park. 

lingzi takes a deep breath. “i wanted to explain myself. and apologize. for you know, everything.” 

jiaqi nods, acknowledging, and lingzi steadies herself, glass panels cool underneath her sweaty palms, before opening her mouth again.

“i’m sorry. for ignoring you, for cutting you off, and for not telling you why. it wasn't your fault, you didn't do anything wrong. i’m really sorry.”

lingzi pauses. jiaqi’s still not looking at her, giving no visible reaction at her words. _just say it._

“i like you. actually, i think i'm in love with you. but i didn't want to ruin anything for you just because of how i felt, so i pulled away. i guess that just made everything worse for both of us though, and you deserve to know. so. yea.” lingzi’s voice tapers off at the end of her sentence, fading into silence.

jiaqi finally turns, locking eyes with lingzi in the dim light of the lamps at the edge of the balcony. lingzi braces herself, waiting for the inevitable rejection and anger and outrage. but there’s a smile tugging at jiaqi’s lips, pulling at the corners of her eyes.

“liu lingzi, you idiot.” jiaqi takes a step towards her, tilting her head up ever so slightly to maintain eye contact all the while. they're only centimeters apart now, so close that lingzi can feel jiaqi’s breath on her skin.

“i like you too.” jiaqi whispers. then her lips are crashing into lingzi’s, hands hooking around her neck to pull her in. lingzi freezes for a moment before melting into the kiss, looping her arms around jiaqi’s waist. 

jiaqi tastes like vanilla and citrus, sweet with just a tang of sour. she kisses with a fierceness reminiscent of her stage presence, passionate and insistent. it makes lingzi dizzy, both with breathlessness and want. 

after several long moments, they pull away, gasping for air. lingzi can only stare at jiaqi, stunned into speechlessness. 

“are you…” she finally manages, voice hoarse. “are you sure?”

“of course.” jiaqi’s grinning in full force now. “you know, i thought you had figured it out and that was why you ran away. i was never really subtle about it.”

“oh.” lingzi can't think of anything else to say. instead, she pulls jiaqi close, letting her tuck her head into the space between lingzi’s neck and collarbone, just reveling in jiaqi’s presence.

“promise you’ll stay with me from now on.” jiaqi whispers when they break apart. 

lingzi wants to make that promise, wants to reassure jiaqi that she’ll always be by her side. but the uncertainty of debut lies before her like a dark cavern, swallowing her whole. she might not be at jiaqi’s side when this is all over, and she knows it all to well. 

so she just kisses her, slow and sweet, taking in the moment and trying not to think about what comes next.

—

with jiaqi back at her side, the world seems to brighten, vivid colors returning to lingzi’s vision. she laughs more in the next two days than she has in the last week, as the lover team works to put together their water stage. splashing around in the inflatable pool simply devolves into chaos, rehearsals full of shouting and collapsing onto their knees, soaking wet.

the two of them cling to each other even outside of practice. lingzi’s too conscious of the limit on their time together, too conscious of the way this could all end. so she spends every spare moment with the other girl, just to be with her, to make as many memories as possible. 

she takes to dragging jiaqi to the gym with her, even though the other girl complains all the while. they work out together, lingzi on the treadmill while jiaqi tests out the various machines around her. for someone who doesn't actually visit the gym too often, jiaqi is unfairly fit. a couple times, she catches lingzi staring at her from across the room, shooting back a smirk and a wink that makes lingzi’s heart stutter.

and then there's the new part, the kissing. lingzi finds herself sneaking off with jiaqi in between voice lessons and dance sessions, stealing moments on the hidden balcony behind practice room one. even back at the dorms, they’re inseparable. lingzi’s room is usually empty, keni and yu yan having disappeared together to do god knows what, so jiaqi ends up stopping by quite regularly. more often than not, her visits turn into a chance to make out, cuddling together on lingzi’s bed. they haven't gone farther than just kissing, lingzi sliding a hand underneath jiaqi’s sweatshirt every once in a while, but she can tell that it would be all too easy to cross the line. 

“i want to dye my hair.” jiaqi announces one night, plopping down onto the floor next to lingzi after their final run through of lover.

“what color?” lingzi asks, not looking up from where she’s drawing on a piece of sticker paper. 

“blue, i think.” jiaqi says thoughtfully. “do you know where xinwen got her hair dye?”

“it’s yu yan’s.” lingzi replies. “she’s got red and blue, that's why everyone’s hair is always the same color.”

“so that's where sun rui got hers from!” jiaqi sounds triumphant, having uncovered the origin of her friend’s new red hair. “i’m going to go ask her if i can use some. come with me!”

that's how lingzi finds herself crowded into her tiny dorm bathroom with jiaqi, yu yan, and keni at two in the morning, watching as yu yan brushes the bright blue dye into jiaqi’s hair.

“it won't be too light, right?” keni asks, eyeing them warily. 

“her hair’s black, it’ll look fine when i'm done.” yu yan answers. jiaqi grins.

“even if it was neon blue, i'd still look good.” her voice is smug. keni snorts. “it would! right, lingzi?” jiaqi tries to turn towards lingzi, but yu yan stops her with a gloved hand. 

“please stop moving.” she says, adjusting her grip on the dye container before resuming her work. jiaqi does as she’s told, but her eyes still flick over to lingzi’s in the bathroom mirror. 

“you'd look good in anything.” lingzi says with a small smirk. 

“i’m going to vomit.” keni groans. lingzi reaches out to smack her, but she dodges away in time. 

keni had been the first person to figure it out, when lingzi had returned her jacket the morning after the farewell party. she had thrown her arms around lingzi in a hug, and hadn't stopped teasing her about it since that moment. 

“shouldn't you two be sleeping?” yu yan asks, exasperated. “we still have rehearsals tomorrow morning.”

“just say you want us out and we’ll leave.” keni rolls her eyes, even when yu yan turns to give her a deadpan stare. 

“i’m going to go to bed.” lingzi says. “good luck.” she gives jiaqi a quick pat on the shoulder before stepping around keni and heading for the door.

sleep comes quickly once she’s tucked in under her mosquito net (guangzhou mosquitoes were easily lingzi’s least favorite thing about changlong). some time later, she's awoken by the creak of footsteps on the ladder to her bunk. someone lays down next to her, lifting an edge of the net to slide underneath, throwing an arm over her waist.

“hm?” lingzi lets out a sleepy grunt. 

“go back to sleep.” jiaqi’s voice whispers. “goodnight.” there's a soft flutter of a kiss on her forehead, before lingzi slips back into blissful unconsciousness. 

the alarm clock blares at six thirty the next morning, signaling the start of a new day. lingzi opens her eyes reluctantly, startling a little at what she sees.

jiaqi’s lying on her side, facing lingzi, still fast asleep. they're only a few centimeters apart, legs tangled together, forced together by the smallness of the bed. in the darkness of the room, lingzi can just make out jiaqi’s features, softened by sleep. she watches for a couple movements before reaching out to shake the other girl’s shoulder. 

“it’s time to get up.” she whispers. somewhere in the background, the alarm is still going off. jiaqi doesn't stir, completely motionless. _of course_ , lingzi thinks, _it's always nearly impossible to wake her._

she detaches herself from jiaqi, climbing carefully over the other girl so she can leave the bed, shut off her alarm, and turn on the lights. jiaqi rolls over at the sudden brightness, bedsprings creaking underneath her. 

“xu jiaqi, you need to get up.” lingzi raises her voice, looking around the room. keni and yu yan are nowhere to be found, and lingzi assumes they went back to yu yan’s late last night, once she had finished with jiaqi’s hair.

“no.” jiaqi whines, burying her head under lingzi’s pillow. 

“come on.” lingzi rolls her eyes. “if you don't get up i won't kiss you.”

slowly, jiaqi sits up, blinking as she adjusts to the light. lingzi’s breath catches in her throat when she sees the blue of jiaqi’s hair, glossy under the fluorescent bulbs in the dorm ceiling.

blue really suits her well.

“i’m going to go get ready.” lingzi says after a few seconds of staring, picking an outfit out of the wardrobe and heading for the bathroom. one quick shower later, she’s changed and re-entered the bedroom, where jiaqi is searching through her clothes for something to wear. 

“i think i'm going to go grab some of my own clothes.” jiaqi announces.

“what, mine aren't good enough for you?” lingzi teases. 

“i have to look good for the pictures!” jiaqi flips her hair in a show of faux arrogance. “i’ll be back in a few minutes.”

jiaqi returns to the room a while later, carrying something behind her back. lingzi is sitting in front of her mirror, touching up her makeup for the day.

she puts down her eyeshadow palette when jiaqi slides her arms around her shoulders, smiling at her through the mirror.

“i got you something.” jiaqi says, voice uncharacteristically shy. lingzi turns her chair to face the other girl, who’s holding out a keychain, dangling from her index finger. lingzi takes it, turning it over in her hands in awe.

it’s a small plush dinosaur, green and yellow, the perfect size to attach to a bag. 

“i have one too. so we can match, you know.” jiaqi’s cheeks are rosy, head ducked. “do you like it?”

“i love it. it’s adorable.” lingzi says, touched.

“really?” jiaqi looks up, eyes bright. 

“of course.” lingzi sets it aside. “thank you.” she stands up, wrapping her arms around jiaqi, hugging her tight. jiaqi melts into lingzi’s touch, warm breath fanning out against her neck.

lingzi makes to turn back to her makeup, but jiaqi stops her with a hand on her shoulder.

“you promised kisses if i got up,” she says, pouting. lingzi chuckles and leans in, grateful she hadn’t gotten to putting her lipstick on quite yet.

it turns out to one of their more difficult rehearsal days. kun comes in to work with them on the performance, bringing with him a dance teacher for each member of the group. they drill the details of the choreography until the next morning, when they're all too exhausted to move another muscle. 

“go get some rest.” kun tells them, giving them a kind smile. “you've worked hard.”

lingzi reluctantly pushes herself off the floor, heading for her locker in search of a clean set of clothes. she finds something comfortable and heads to the bathroom to change, throwing her sweaty practice gear into her bag when she comes back.

jiaqi’s still lying on the ground, eyes closed. lingzi prods her with a foot, and she lets out a muffled grunt.

“let's go.” lingzi says.

“don’t wanna.” jiaqi mutters, not opening her eyes. “i'll just sleep here.” she must be exhausted, lingzi realizes, having barely slept the night before.

“you'll get a stiff neck.” lingzi points out. “let’s just go back. you can nap on the way.”

jiaqi still doesn't get up, lips pulling into a pout. lingzi takes in her t shirt, stuck to her skin with sweat, and has a sudden idea.

“if i get you a change of clothes, will you go?” she asks, fondness seeping into her voice involuntarily.

“maybe.” jiaqi grumbles. lingzi’s already halfway to the door, heading back to her locker to pull out another outfit before returning to throw it at jiaqi. she whines when the fabric lands on her face, hand coming up to push it away.

“go get changed and we’ll leave.” lingzi says, taking a seat by the mirrors. jiaqi finally obliges, movements sluggish as she rises and makes her way to the bathroom.

she returns a few minutes later, tugging at the hem of her shirt. lingzi’s clothes is a little too big for her, sleeves falling past her fingers and the edges of her pants brushing the floor. jiaqi looks at her with sleepy eyes, and lingzi wants to coo at the sight. 

she tangles her fingers with jiaqi’s, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “what?” jiaqi whines. 

“you're cute, that’s all.” lingzi grins. jiaqi hits her softly on the arm, but keeps her other hand intertwined with lingzi’s as they take the elevator down to the exit. 

the fans are screaming as they head towards the waiting car, probably because of jiaqi’s new hair color. lingzi looks around, shading her eyes with her free hand, offering a couple small waves. glancing down, she sees the tiny dinosaur swinging against her leg, and smiles behind her mask. 

they throw their things into the van before climbing in themselves. when jiaqi tosses her duffle in, lingzi catches sight of the matching dinosaur on her bag. she slides into her seat, smile growing.

behind the safety of the tinted windows, jiaqi removes her mask, leaning her head against lingzi’s shoulder and letting her eyes slip shut. lingzi leans back, against the cool leather of the car seat, one hand reaching out to find the keychain. she runs her fingers over it, warmth surging through her chest.

it's as if she's holding a piece of jiaqi, one that she can carry with her wherever she goes. 

—

the last round of eliminations shocks lingzi out of the dreamlike comfort she’s been living in for the past few days, bringing her back to reality. her voice shakes as she gives her speech, reciting the words she had written earlier that day, ears still ringing with kun’s call of eleventh place. eleventh. 

she had fallen short, even more so than last time. it hurts, adding another almost to her growing list.

it only gets worse, as they move to announcing twentieth place. when lin fan’s and keni’s faces appear on the led screen, side by side, lingzi’s heart shatters into pieces. two of her best friends, the people she holds closest to her heart, fighting for the last spot in the finale. one of them will have to go home.

she buries her face in her hands, unwilling to look up even as she hears the gasps and shouts around her. finally, after what feels like an eternity, kun announces keni’s name. lingzi squeezes her eyes shut, trying to stop the tears from slipping out. she listens to keni’s hiccuping voice as her friend talks, glancing up through her fingers to catch a glimpse of her friend’s hand clenched around the microphone, vision blurry. 

the goodbyes are all too painful to say. lingzi pulls xinyi close and doesn't let go, joined by zihan a few moments later as they sink into a small pile on the stage floor. lin fan finds them soon after, and lingzi sniffles as she peels two of the four stickers off of her knuckles and presses them onto xinyi’s and lin fan’s hands. 

“keep your heads up for us, okay?” lin fan says, one arm wrapped around xinyi’s shoulders, the other wiping away her own tears. 

“okay.” zihan whispers, voice shaking. lingzi nods, not trusting herself to speak without breaking into tears.

keran pulls lin fan away after couple minutes, tear tracks trailing down her cheeks. lingzi straightens up too, steadying herself and looking around for the other people she needs to see.

she finds chuhan first, who smiles shakily at her. lingzi reaches out to brush the other girl’s hair away from her face, before giving her a hug. they exchange a couple words, both too emotional to do much talking, and eventually part, heading in opposite directions.

a few minutes later, she reaches the side of the stage closest to the entrance tunnel, where the snh girls have gathered. lingzi puts a hand on yuzhuo’s shoulder, catching the other girl's attention. 

“i’m going to have haidilao as soon as i get home!” yuzhuo is grinning brightly as ever, even though her eyes are glistening. lingzi laughs wetly, a realization sinking into her shoulders.

yuzhuo, the last of her bad guy teammates, who had stood next to her on stage for all of their public performances. yuzhuo is leaving. lingzi doesn't want to accept it, doesn’t want her to go. 

surprisingly, yuge also pulls lingzi in for a quick embrace. “i’m glad you worked it out.” she murmurs in lingzi’s ear. when lingzi leans back, confusion written all over her face, yuge tilts her head to her left.

jiaqi is standing with sun rui and dai meng, immersed in quiet conversation. lingzi’s mind clears as she understands what yuge is saying.

“thank you.” she answers, giving yuge another hug. she glances at jiaqi again from over yuge’s shoulder, thoughts flying through her brain, full of things she wants to say.

later. for now, lingzi just holds on tight to her friends, wishing they didn't have to go.

—

for once, the staff don't rush them off to another filming segment, instead letting them slowly return to the dorms and get some much needed rest. lingzi considers taking a trip to the rooftop, but the thought of visiting with the knowledge that her friends are leaving is too painful to bear. so she gets in the car with keni, holding the other girl’s hand as she cries silently. when they arrive, keni gives lingzi’s hand a quick squeeze before disappearing, and lingzi enters her room alone.

a while later, after lingzi’s taken off all her makeup and showered the hairspray out of her hair, she hears the door open again. “it’s me,” jiaqi calls, as the door clicks shut behind her. 

she climbs up the ladder and tucks herself into lingzi’s side, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. “how are you feeling?”

lingzi shrugs, eyes staring straight ahead. “i don't know.”

jiaqi reaches for lingzi’s hand, brushing her thumb over lingzi’s knuckles. “i’m here.”

somehow, it's those two words that make lingzi finally fall apart. she lets out the sobs she’s been holding in all night, her entire body spasming as the tears fall free. jiaqi’s there in an instant, tugging lingzi into her arms, letting her bury her face in her shirt. 

“it’s going to be okay. you’re going to be okay.” she whispers, gently carding a hand through lingzi’s hair. 

everything lingzi’s been carefully holding inside her finally spills over: the strain of constant practice and filming and all sorts of schedules, the bitterness of her near misses in each performance ranking, the disappointment in her falling position. on top of it all is concern, rooted deep in her heart, not just for herself but for jiaqi. 

having the other girl at her side for the last two weeks has been absolutely amazing, but lingzi can only think of what lies ahead. jiaqi will make the debut group, there’s no doubt, but lingzi’s situation is far less stable. she hasn't even cracked the top nine once, and it’s becoming clearer and clearer that jiaqi might debut without her. the thought makes lingzi want to cry harder, the unsureness of it all. 

it takes a while for lingzi to stop shaking, for her to catch her breath. eventually, her breathing evens back out, and she detaches herself from jiaqi’s tear soaked shirt.

“jiaqi.” she whispers, throat raw from sobbing for so long. “what if i don't make it?”

“don't be so sure.” jiaqi says gently. “nobody knows what will happen just yet.”

“but what if…” lingzi trails off, not sure how to put what she’s feeling into words.

“you’re going to fight till the end.” jiaqi’s voice is firm. “you’re going to do amazing at the finale. and you’ll cross those bridges if you have to, but you’re not there yet.”

“okay.” lingzi says. “okay.”

jiaqi reaches around, hand cupping the back of lingzi’s neck, pulling her in. lingzi can taste the salt on jiaqi’s lips, belatedly realizing that the other girl had shed tears of her own. 

they part, foreheads still pressed together. jiaqi’s eyes shine with a familiar determination. 

“no matter what happens, i won’t just let you go.”

—

there’s an ever present countdown in the back of lingzi’s mind as they get closer and closer to the finale. she only has two weeks left at changlong, the place that has become her home over the last six months. the thought of leaving behind all the friendships she had so painstakingly forged coupled with the slimness of her chance at debut drags lingzi’s mood down a considerable amount, subduing her smiles

but there's no time to wallow in her feelings. her days are busier than ever, preparations for the final performances running parallel to various game segments, sponsored ads, and every other appearance the directors want to snatch while they still have the chance. lingzi finds herself dashing from schedule to schedule, from filming straight to the studios straight to another paopao vlog or heartfelt interview. the various empty spots in their formation during their practices only prove that everyone around her is going through the exact same thing.

the constant hustle and bustle of the changlong building is probably why her last interview comes as such a shock to lingzi. when the directors tell her this is the final time she’ll be here, sitting in front of these cameras, lingzi stares at them in confusion. _this is it?_

it makes her tear up again, clapping her hands together for the last cut. this journey is coming to a close, and lingzi doesn't want it to end. as grueling as their days have been, she wishes she had more to look forward to, had more time to spend with the girls she’s gotten to know and grown to love. 

she returns to the hunt practice room with a lump still lingering in the back of her throat, joining keran and zihan where they’re working through the point choreography one more time. they stop for a quick break after half an hour of just dancing, zihan leaning against lingzi’s shoulder and letting her eyes flutter closed.

the door opens and jiaqi steps in, shooting lingzi a smile before moving into the center for a quick warmup. lingzi watches, taking in jiaqi’s lithe lines and flexibility as she pushes herself into several different stretches. even if she’s seen her do it a thousand times, she still loves watching jiaqi dance, still feels as drawn in as she was that very first day.

lingzi is incredibly grateful that they ended up in the same group for the final performance. jiaqi’s presence in the practice room is always calming, steadying in moments of uncertainty or tension. every moment they spend together is precious to lingzi, even if it's just dancing side by side, with only the loud music to bridge the gap between them. 

zihan rises after a few more moments, opening her eyes and pushing herself back to her feet. jiaqi joins their little group as they resume their dancing, making her own adjustments and occasionally cracking jokes to bring smiles to their faces. 

finally, a couple hours later, zihan and keran decide to call it a day. lingzi looks at jiaqi, who shakes her head, sliding her eyes back to her figure in the mirror. 

so she bids zihan and keran goodbye and returns to the previous step of the dance, continuing on. it's another hour before jiaqi finally lets herself sit down on the floor, catching her breath. 

“let’s take a break?” lingzi asks, pausing. at jiaqi’s nod, she reaches out a hand, pulling the other girl back to her feet and leading her out of the room.

a few minutes later, they’ve seated themselves on the rooftop, gazing up at the dark sky. it’s jiaqi who breaks the silence.

“did you record your last interview today too?”

lingzi nods. jiaqi hums softly, hands tugging at the hem of her pink t shirt.

“it’s weird, isn’t it? that it’s all just going to end.”

“it is.” lingzi answers. “i don't really want it to.”

“me either.” jiaqi sighs. 

there's a pause, an unspoken question hanging in the air. lingzi gathers up all the courage she can, closes her eyes, and speaks it into existence.

“what will we do after this?”

she’s grown more and more certain as the days have passed that she’s not going to make the final lineup. it’s far too late to climb into the top nine, which has remained fixed for two rounds of rankings now. lingzi’s fairly sure that she won’t debut, and she knows jiaqi’s aware of it too.

“whatever we can.” jiaqi’s voice is surprisingly calm. “we’ll message, video call, anything you want. we’ll meet up when we can, whenever we happen to be in the same place.”

“okay.” the reply comes out softer than lingzi intended, betraying her doubts.

“i meant what i said, you know.” jiaqi looks at her, eyes glittering. “i don't want to let you go. we can’t just end here. you mean too much to me for that to happen.”

“are you sure?” lingzi asks. “we’re not going to be able to see each other for so long. you'll be so busy too, i don't want to be a distraction.”

“you're never a distraction. and i haven't actually debuted yet, you never know.” jiaqi takes lingzi’s hands in hers, holding them in her lap, staring straight into lingzi’s eyes.

“you told me you thought you were in love with me. well, i think i’m in love with you too. and i’m willing to do whatever it takes.” 

lingzi’s breath hitches at jiaqi’s words. 

“me too.” she answers. “i want to stay by your side.”

jiaqi lets go of lingzi’s hands, opening up her arms. lingzi scoots into her embrace, feeling the other girl’s heartbeat against her chest.

 _whatever it takes_. lingzi thinks that’s a promise she can make.

—

by the end of the first segment of the finale, lingzi knows she’s not going to make it. when her name isn't called in the first fight for ninth place, she accepts her fate, focusing instead on the remaining performances. in what feels like the blink of an eye, they’re standing in two neat rows, waiting for kun to finally announce the results.

as soon as kun says “star48”, lingzi is stepping down from her spot behind jiaqi, placing her hands on the other girl’s shoulders as jiaqi lets out a little gasp. she feels a burst of pride as jiaqi runs down the path towards her new seat, arms thrown behind her, mimicking flight. in a way, she is flying, flying to the position she deserves. _she did it_ , lingzi tells herself, _finally left the river and entered the ocean, just as she had always wanted._

after the finale ends, all the trainees head backstage, which quickly turns into a chaotic mess. lingzi gets pulled into countless pictures and takes plenty of her own too, as her friends pose in front of her in their matching uniforms. there’s laughter and tears and so much happening that lingzi can’t pinpoint any one person, any one voice. 

a hand on her shoulder grabs her attention, and lingzi spins around. jiaqi’s changed out of her stage outfit into a deep blue sweater, signature butterfly necklace hanging under the collar. without a word, she tugs lingzi out of the crowded dressing room and into a deserted stairwell at the end of a long hallway.

as soon as they’re safely hidden from view, lingzi pulls jiaqi into a kiss, letting her emotions flood through her. jiaqi responds just as enthusiastically, hands bunching and creating wrinkles in the neatly ironed fabric of lingzi’s uniform. 

they’re both gasping when they finally break apart, at a loss for words. 

“you did it.” lingzi says, still catching her breath. “you made it. i’m so proud of you.”

“thank you.” jiaqi smiles, arms still wrapped around lingzi’s waist. “i don't have much time, we’re flying out tonight.”

 _so soon?_ lingzi was hoping for one more night, just a few more hours.

“remember to take care of yourself, okay?” she says, voice wavering. “try not to skip meals, sleep as much as you can, don’t practice too hard.”

“okay.” jiaqi smiles. “you too. you better text and call. whenever you want, whatever you want.”

“of course.” lingzi affirms, tears springing to her eyes. 

“don’t cry.” jiaqi reaches up to brush away the droplets rolling down lingzi’s cheeks, even though her own eyes are glittering with moisture too. “this isn't goodbye.”

the tears only come faster. lingzi tugs jiaqi in one more time, pressing one more kiss to her lips. “i’m going to miss you so much.”

“i’ll miss you too.” jiaqi’s throat is thick with her own tears. they stay like that for a couple more moments, neither of them willing to break the embrace, knowing that this might be their last one for a very long time.

finally, jiaqi untangles herself from lingzi’s arms. “i need to go. they’ll be looking for me.”

lingzi takes her hand. “let's go. i’ll walk you out.”

they head to the backstage entrance, where the other members of the9 are gathering, preparing to depart. jiaqi looks at lingzi one more time, gives her one more beautiful grin.

“see you later, lingzi.”

“see you.” lingzi reluctantly lets go of her hand, watching as she joins her new groupmates, as the staff hustle them out. jiaqi glances over her shoulder one last time, and lingzi raises her arm, waving.

“i love you.” she murmurs to herself, staring until jiaqi disappears from view, before turning around to return to the dressing room.

—

when lingzi’s changing out of her uniform later that night, she finds a folded piece of paper tucked into the chest pocket. she takes it out, carefully smoothing out the creases.

it’s been ripped from a drawing pad, edges rough on one side. there’s a tiny cartoon dinosaur drawn next to a tiny cartoon fox, a heart in between them. underneath, in familiar handwriting, is just one word.

_always._

the memory returns to lingzi in a flash: that one interview, where she and jiaqi had drawn each other’s characters. she remembers jiaqi scribbling in between questions, hiding her pad from view. lingzi traces her fingers over the characters carefully, taking it all in. she folds the paper back up, slipping it into the pocket of her pants.

no matter how many almosts she had met in the last six months, it was the always that would stay with her forever. 

—

lingzi gets a text notification the day after she returns from nanjing, exhausted from a long week of rehearsals, interviews, and their 172 girls performance. she’s out the door in a flash, energy suddenly returning, practically running down the street towards her local drugstore.

once she’s made it back home, thick white envelope clutched in her hands, she pries it open it and spills the contents onto the coffee table. hundreds of freshly developed photos slide out, scattering over the surface, glossy and colorful. 

lingzi spends the next hour laying them out one by one, in chronological order, until they cover the entire table. slowly, she takes it all in, her entire experience at changlong captured in film. there’s the bad guy team, in their purple jackets, sleeping and exercising and laughing. there’s her A classmates, her balcony friends, all in their different colored sweatshirts and making all sorts of strange poses for the camera. there’s backstage shots from each public performance, everyone in full stage makeup and in various outfits squeezed into just one frame. there’s the road she walked every day, the cafeteria, the gym, the dormitories, the rooftop.

and then there’s jiaqi. there are shots of her in the practice room, dancing or posing with lingzi in the mirror. shots of her in her r and b outfit, on the lover stage silhouetted by colorful lights, of the tiny lightning bolt on her face from the mama studio battle. shots of her eating, of her napping, of her laughing at the camera. together, they come together to paint a complete picture, of the girl lingzi had found so captivating and magnetic from the very beginning, of the girl she had fallen for, first slowly, and then all at once.

near the very end of her timeline there’s a picture of the two of them together, probably taken by zihan or another one of their hunt teammates. they’re wearing their matching pink nike shirts, sitting cross legged on the studio floor, mid-conversation. even in the photograph, the adoration in their eyes is crystal clear, perfectly encapsulated by the camera.

lingzi snaps a photo of the shot and sends it straight to jiaqi, captioning it with a simple “i miss you”. she sets about picking her favorite pictures to post to weibo, making a neat stack on the floor and writing down a caption for each one.

a couple minutes later, her phone vibrates in the unique pattern she had set just for jiaqi. lingzi sets down the shot of keyin and nai wan in her hands and slides it open, the new message bringing a soft smile to her lips.

_don’t miss me too much. i’ll always come back to you._

**Author's Note:**

> god, i can't believe i actually wrote this. it started as a look into a few significant lyqt moments, then suddenly spiraled into a nearly 20k word long exploration of their entire qcyn2 journey together that doubles as an open love letter to xu jiaqi. the sheer fact that this fic exists is just insane to me.
> 
> a few little things:  
> \- a huge thank you to lynn ([@gravityrtle](http://twitter.com/gravityrtle)) for listening to me scream incoherently throughout this entire process. i love you!  
> \- the day i finished writing this, lingzi posted all her photos and completely ruined my plotline of how her and jiaqi met. that part of the fic is no longer canon-compliant, but i kept it because i like the idea of their deep rooftop conversations  
> \- most of this fic has its roots in that one lyqt interview (where jiaqi was most definitely writing something on her drawing pad that she never revealed)  
> \- the timeline also isn't the most accurate but i made some adjustments for ~creative purposes~, especially near the end  
> \- the dance that jiaqi does at the farewell party is [噩梦轮回](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W-0sKW7krHE&t=92s) from snh48 team sii's plan salvation stage. there were rumors that she performed it at the party (and iqiyi didn't air it :/) and it's one of my fav performances from her so i had to include it   
> \- i really tried to shove all my favs into this fic (dm, zkn, yy, xyyz) and i also wanted to pay tribute to balcony line so that's where most of the friendships come from
> 
> if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading. this is the longest piece i've ever written, and it's sort of turned into my baby in the time that i spent working on it. while it's not perfect by any means (unbetaed and only slightly edited), i'm honestly really proud of how it turned out. i hope i did lingzi and jiaqi justice and that you enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! any comments and kudos are so greatly appreciated <3
> 
> scream about lyqt with me on my [twitter](http://twitter.com/aerojuns) and leave any thoughts in my [ccat](http://curiouscat.me/mochihui)!


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